


The Artist's Gaze

by drinkginandkerosene



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkginandkerosene/pseuds/drinkginandkerosene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grantaire disappears for a few hours, Enjolras wonders where he could have got to. Turns out, he wouldn't like the answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Artist's Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a reply to this prompt by Tumblr user averyheartlessprince: "someone write an E/R modern au fic where grantaire models nude for some easy money and enjolras discovers this and becomes v jealous and finds the studio where he works and runs in and throws a blanket over him because “no thAT’S MINE NOT FOR YOU”."

As Enjolras stepped into the apartment that him and Grantaire shared, he got the immediate sense that something was wrong. Not a big, gut wrenching sense, but the simple sense of wrongness he got whenever Grantaire wasn’t around.

It was unusual too because since he’d gotten kicked out of the university for repeated offences of ‘drunkenness and insolence’ he was usually here or in the cafe, drinking or smoking or generally being the type of nuisance that made Enjolras smile despite his wishes. It was nice to have his lonely flat filled with another living, breathing human. He’d never quite realised how lonely he could get until his boyfriend wasn’t around. Like now.

He wandered into the kitchen, dropping his school bag laden with books the the ground with a dull thud, grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl and chewing on it as he noticed the note on the table. At least when Grantaire went out he left a note. On the part at least he was reliable.

Out for a few hours. Don’t miss me too much Apollo. - R

Enjolras frowned slightly. While Grantaire was usually home, once every two weeks, he did disappear for hours. Enjolras wondered about an affair, but it was too regimented to be that, unless he was fucking Combeferre. So he was left puzzled, and whenever he asked the man about it, he waved it off with that annoying nonchalance he possessed. 

And to annoy Enjolras more, he had left his coat on the floor. With an annoyed growl, Enjolras crossed the gap to the offending fabric, yanking it off the floor. A piece of paper with an address and time scrawled on it, Enjolras realised as he picked it up. It was a community college not too far from here, and the time and date was well…Now. Why would Grantaire have this?

Logically, Enjolras knew he should wait until Grantaire came home and ask him like a reasonable person. But anyone who knew Enjolras for two seconds could tell he was hardly reasonable. Another moment later and his red blazer was on his shoulders, and he was out the door.

He stood in front of the brick building, only now beginning to have second thoughts. It looked closed up for the day, and soon the streetlights would be flickering on. He didn’t even know what room Grantaire was in for goodness’ sake. He was about to turn on his heel and march home when a young woman with blonde hair came out the main doors, blinking at him standing there aimlessly.

“Are you here for the art lessons?” He hesitated before nodding, trying to look as un-suspicious as he possibly could. “Right then, they moved the classroom, it’s the one at the very end on the right.” She smiled as she held the door open for him, and he murmured a polite thank you and made a mental note on what she looked like so if he saw her again he could thank her more graciously. Or ask her how interested in revolution she was.

He followed the corridor, wondering perhaps if Grantaire was taking art lessons and just didn’t wish to tell him for whatever reason. It seemed an odd secret to keep however. He reached the door, and braced himself for a confrontation as he opened it and saw -

His boyfriend. Nude. In front of people.

They were painting him, feasting upon his form in paints and pastels, and Enjolras felt a rush of fury because he wasn’t theirs to feast upon. The curve of his spine, the shoulder blades that looked apt to burst wings, the slim line of his hips and even the space underneath his knees were Enjolras’ to love and cherish and appreciate. 

The students looked up, the model did not. 

“Can I help you?” The tutor said, wide eyes growing wider at the expression on Enjolras’ face. He didn’t bother replying, simply striding over to Grantaire, ripping his blazer off to throw it around the man. Grantaire’s face flashed through shock and annoyance before settling on amusement. 

“Apollo? Want to take some art lessons?”

“I want you to put your clothes on.” Enjolras whispered, in something more like a growl than anything else. “Now. Nobody gets to see you but me Grantaire. Nobody.”


End file.
